


Waiting On A Friend

by Lokisgame



Series: Waiting On A Friend [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s05e20 The End, F/M, Missing Scene, Movie: Fight The Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9223691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisgame/pseuds/Lokisgame
Summary: He watched them through the mirror hanging behind the bar and felt like Alice looking at another world through the looking glass. Once upon a time this could have been his life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> No copyright infringement intended.
> 
>  
> 
> [the look](http://ohyeahdavidduchovny.tumblr.com/post/157102212504)

_Watching girls go passing by_  
_It ain't the latest thing_  
_I'm just standing in a doorway_  
_I'm just trying to make some sense_  
_Out of these girls go passing by_  
_The tales they tell of men_

 

He wore a simple black dress shirt, dark jeans and fresh subtle smell of cologne because he showered and shaved less than two hours ago. Having slept through the morning and early afternoon, after a night spent in a company car on a stakeout, his features relaxed and his intelligent, curious stare was turned to the outside world. Deep down in his heart he was still a profiler, he liked to watch people, and as he waited he amused himself with observing the patrons of the bar, wondering idly what was their day like in the real world.  
He thought about the couple in the booth behind him, the man whispered into his friends ear making her smile, blush and laugh in turns. He watched them through the mirror hanging behind the bar and felt like Alice looking at another world through the looking glass. Once upon a time this could have been his life.  
His stare traveled to two men sitting opposite each other two booths down, discussing something in low voices. If there was something afoot at that table, some dirty deal taking place right under his nose, he didn't care, he was off the clock for the weekend.  
At the far end of the bar to his right, two young, attractive women were sipping martinis. The blonde was gesturing animatedly while recounting (probably) the previous night's blind date to her friend, their conversation punctuated with low gasps of surprise and sudden bursts of low laughter.  
The fairer part of the DC population, especially the part frequenting this side of town, had a pretty impressive pool of candidates to choose from. A young law firm associate, a congressman's personal assistant, a lobbyist with a pretty paycheck and a fancy car. For a one night stand or a steady relationship, a girl could take her pick in a place like this. If she only scaled her expectations accordingly.  
As for men, the slender tall blonde sitting on the other end of the bar, nursing the same glass of red wine since he got here, was pretty much the easiest option. A working girl catering to the high and mighty, discretion being her first, last and middle name.  
However, as skilled a profiler he was, what he failed to notice, were the frequent glances from the ladies he was so inconspicuously observing. Mulder was probably as innocent as Gibson Praise in his view of himself, but if he possessed the boy's gift and could look into the minds of almost every woman in that bar, he would be surprised.  
Fortunately for them, he had only a vague idea about the right kind of smile that got him out of many speeding tickets in his youth, but had absolutely no power over the one person he usually was interested in convincing.

The one person, who has strangely and inexplicably withdrew herself from his orbit. Their current assignment being desk duty or whatever BS errands for whatever division that needed hands to do their dirty work, like pulling all night stakeouts for three nights in a row, alone, has made both of them edgy.  
They were used to having their own space, where they could talk openly, act naturally and work in peace. To make things worse Scully was acting weird ever since Diana came back, and he was starting to worry about it.  
Ever since Gibson brought his attention to it, he noticed how Scully became detached and kind of overtly profesionall, he recognized her reaction as something of a professional display of jealousy. He saw it every now and then, the strictness, the brusque professionalism, the short clipped sentences. It was her version of territorial behavior. Feeling threatened, she puled up her defenses. Neither of them would ever say it out loud, but they knew it, when they saw it.  
Gibson almost broke the rules, something that would surely make Mulder's life very difficult. The silent agreement between them broken in front of an outsider, would require explanations and declarations, neither of them was ready or keen to voice at that or any other moment. This was their matter, handled wordlessly, through gestures and body language and that subtle change in vibration of the air between them.  
The truth was, that anything that might have been between him and Diana was over years ago. He barely thought about her anymore. But their past existed and with that past came a certain degree of intimacy that was not repulsive to him, but at the same time not as welcome or comfortable as it might have been, let's say 4 to 5 years ago. It meant something, but that something meant next to nothing. To him at least.  
What was an inconsequential gesture to him did however tick Scully of like an omen of changing allegiance. He broke the rules, without the benefit of celestial conjunction as an excuse, and now it was up to him to fix it. 

 

_A smile relieves a heart that grieves_

 

A wave of motion caught his eye and he saw her approaching through the gathering crowd. Her small frame and red hair unmistakable, navigating between the handsome lawyers and even handsomer lobbyists with their expensive suits and even more expensive ties, she was like a small meteor flying towards him. The heat of her passing grazing their orbits made them turn and stare after her. Her high heels clacking against the wooden floor, doing very little to bring them to her level.  
Casual Scully was small, truly petite, fragile and cute. If he Tried to tell her that to her face and she might kick his ass seven ways untill Sunday, but it was a fact, one he wasn't that conscious of usually, but the though did hit him now and then. Scully was beautiful, graceful and tough as nails. She was many other things too, but right now, with her face slightly flushed, wearing jeans and a soft casual light blue cardigan draped over her shoulders like a billowing cape she was mostly cute. And she smiled only at him.  
"Where's the fire FBI woman?" He teased as she finally stopped before him catching her breath.  
"You tell me, you called me here." She laughed incredulously but didn't sit. He might have exaggerate a bit over the phone when he called and invited her to join him, but her smile gave him hope he might get away with it.  
"Come on, let's go outside"  
"But I just got here" she protested weakly as he got up and steered her gently in the direction of the stairs that lead to the roof patio.  
"Please, I'll explain everything, but not around all this witnesses" he winked at her and she followed. 

The early evening was mild and the sky was clear. The roof patio of the establishment offered comfortable white couches and a stunning vista of the city. Sunset painted the sky in all shades of purple, the moon was rising and the city geared down for the evening. A beautiful summer, Saturday evening.  
"I've never been here" she said looking around for a place to sit.  
"This way" he gently guided her to a couch far removed from the prying eyes and ears, as he always did.  
She sat next to him and took in the view, the light warm breeze, the waiter who was walking around lighting the tea lights on each table. This wasn't the usual place for either of them. Between the diners on the road, restaurants close to work where they sometimes indulged in long lunches discussing cases (change of venue proved successful in promoting new ideas) and their homes, they rarely (bordering on never) spent time together in a place like that.  
She seemed to be as awed as he was, which wasn't exactly his goal. He feared it might be a little too much to early, but the place had good reputation and he felt like they both needed a neutral ground to find themselves together anew. 

 

_Don't need a whore_  
_I don't need no booze_  
_Don't need a virgin priest_  
_But I need someone I can cry to_  
_I need someone to protect_  
_Making love and breaking hearts_  
_It is a game for youth_

 

"So, Mulder, what gives?" She looked at him expectantly trying to make sense of it all in her own way.  
"You want something to drink?" He asked motioning for the waiter, clearly staling.  
"White wine, if you please" she answered dubiously. He ordered whiskey for himself under her arching eyebrow. He didn't usually drink, but tonight he thought he might need it. He feared he over did it, his doubts were starting to outweigh his resolve. He turned to her, resting one elbow on the back of the couch, focusing on her to take his mind of the memories of awkward dates. She was his friend for crying out loud and he intended to keep her that way.  
"It's nothing really, I just" he trailed off lowering his gaze, almost losing his nerve, why was this so hard all of a sudden?  
"You just what?" She prompted, not used to seeing him stammer and grasping for words, he always had something to say, one way or another.  
"I wanted to talk" he sighed, now or never "I missed our talks. I haven't spoken to you in a week"  
"Three days" she corrected him without malice.  
"Whatever, felt like a week and I missed it" he let himself go, just started blurting things out "we lost the X-files, they took our office, and not so long ago" he wanted to say _I almost lost you_ , but he caught himself before he jumped of that ledge, settling for a close second "we were a team."  
"We're still a team, Mulder, we still work together" she never made anything easy for him, this wasn't about work.  
"Geographically yes, I know that, but it's not the same" he reached for his drink, taking a small sip and resting the glass on his bent knee  
"I miss our freedom, and" he hasitated staring at the gold liquid swirling around the ice cubes, the warmth of his hand melting it, if only his life was that simple  
"As presumptuous as it might sound," he looked into her eyes, willing her to understand "I miss my friend." 

He knew he was pushing the line. He was pushing it from the day he found out about her cancer, about the fertility clinic, about her remission, about Emily, about 5 billion other things that weren't her. He wanted to tell her how most days she was his first thought in the morning and his last thought at night, how he was scared shitles of losing her, terrified of the day when he would wake up and not know when he would see her again. He was tired of loneliness, that recurring fear that resurfaced with every bump in the road they shared.  
The loss of X-files didn't destroy him the way he once thought it would. Now that he had a frame of reference, a bench mark of grief that he knew was his limit. He knew that work he could pick up again, he'd find a way, but without her, he wasn't sure if he would have the strength to do it. It was selfish to place all his hopes in her, knowing how loyal and devoted she's been, selfish to ask more of her, but he needed to know. He needed to know she would not turn her back on him because she thought he had a replacement for her in the wings.  
He was grasping, reaching out to her, hoping she'll meet him half way. Three days that felt like a week without her was what it took for him to notice what was missing, and he wasn't sure he would make it a week or even three days without it.  
"So, Scully, tell me, how was your day?"

 _But I'm not waiting on a lady_  
_I'm just waiting on a friend_

She gave him a long look and finally said "Well, my car broke down, I might need a lift on Monday"  
He smiled and felt it, the threads intertwining again and resting his head in the palm of his hand he relaxed "tell me what happened."

**Author's Note:**

> Everybody hates song fics.
> 
>  
> 
> [ "Waiting On A Friend" ](https://open.spotify.com/track/505B4DQNTigBdpaU2jYnSb) by The Rolling Stones


End file.
